


Lean on Me

by SpideyFics



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Based on the deleted scene where Peter falls asleep on MJ's shoulder, F/M, Kisses, No Beta, Peter and MJ are the cutest, Sleepy Peter Parker, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Spideychelle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 19:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20680409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpideyFics/pseuds/SpideyFics
Summary: Peter Parker showed up at the door of MJ’s London hotel room twenty-two hours and thirteen minutes after she walked away from him on Tower Bridge, looking considerably less broken than the last time she’d seen him.





	Lean on Me

**Author's Note:**

> This little fic was inspired by the deleted scene of Peter falling asleep on MJ's shoulder on the plane home.
> 
> Rated mature just to be safe, even though nothing much happens.
> 
> No beta, so apologies for any mistakes. This was written in a couple of hours with no plot in mind, so it's pretty much a stream of consciousness fic.

Peter Parker showed up at the door of MJ’s London hotel room twenty-two hours and thirteen minutes after she walked away from him on Tower Bridge, looking considerably less broken than the last time she’d seen him.

He leaned against the door frame, giving her a cute, lopsided smile that caused a flutter in her stomach and made her catch her breath. “Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

She opened the door wider and stepped to the side, sweeping her arm behind her to invite him in. The room wasn’t as fancy as the one in Prague, just a basic Holiday Inn, but it was nice enough, with two double beds and a small couch under the large window. The trip had been a disaster from start to finish – well, she guessed some parts of it had actually been pretty good – but the one bonus of some random dude named Nick Fury commandeering Peter and subsequently their entire trip was that they’d all ended up with individual rooms, rather than the shared rooms and dorms they’d expected. MJ appreciated the privacy, particularly now Peter had shown up, all shy smiles and softly tousled curls, with his sparkling brown eyes and his dimples.

She closed the door and Peter threw himself down onto the couch, his arm draped along the back, and she took that as an invitation to sit next to him. “You healed up fast,” she said, twisting her hands together to stop her reaching out to hold his, feeling shy and unsure of herself.

In a surprisingly bold move, Peter moved his arm down from the couch back and linked his fingers with hers. “Spider-Man perks,” he shrugged. “I heal super-fast and don’t get ill. I’ve still got kind of a limp but that’ll be gone by tomorrow.” As he spoke, he gently rubbed his thumb across hers, and she shivered a little.

“Where were you?” She already knew he’d been with Happy, having had a long conversation with May the previous evening, but the defensive, untrusting part of her wanted to see how honest Peter would be.

“Happy took me to one of Tony’s – uh, Pepper’s - empty houses here.” A flash of grief passed across his face, and she squeezed his hand. “He patched me up, bought me a change of clothes and wouldn’t let me leave until I ate and slept. I guess my suitcase is still back in Prague.”

She grabbed her rucksack from the floor, and pulled out a tightly rolled bundle consisting of a pair of jeans, a hoodie, a few t-shirts and sneakers. “I packed these in my backpack. I had the rest of your stuff in my rucksack but it kind of got blown up on the tour bus.”

He unrolled the clothing, beaming at her when he saw his NASA shirt and his recently acquired favorite tee, which read, ‘if you believe in telekinesis, please raise my hand’. “Awww yes, you saved my best shirts. You’re the best MJ, I lov ... I … um …” he flushed pink, biting his lip, and he was so adorable that she wanted to kiss him, so she did, and he tasted like spearmint, his mouth soft and slick and warm beneath hers and _oh_, that was his hand on her waist, moving to caress the skin between her shirt and her waistband, and it was so much better than his hand on her shoulder.

Frustrated by having to twist to kiss him, she was about to abandon all restraint and straddle his thighs when Peter’s phone, which she’d also packed in her carry on and was now charging on a bedside table, began to vibrate with an incoming call.

She hauled herself away from him with great reluctance, wiping a hand across her mouth. “You should get that, it’s probably May.”

Chest heaving, he frowned at her before standing to grab his phone, swiping at it to answer the call. “Hey, May,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. “Yeah, I’m OK, I promise. Happy took really good care of me. Are you alright? Sorry I was asleep every time you called, I was out of it for a while.”

As Peter talked, MJ carefully smoothed out his clothes then folded them, setting them out on the spare bed. She snuck little glances at him, watching as he paced back and forth over a square two feet of carpet, tethered by the phone charger, her eyes lingering on his neck where his hair curled over the pale skin above his shirt collar. Struck with sudden mischief, she crept up behind him and pressed her lips to his nape, making him squeak and drop his phone.

That made him frown at her again as he rescued his phone and turned his back to her, but she saw how his hand reached down to adjust the front of his pants and she felt a little thrill that she could have that effect on him. “Sorry, MJ made me jump. What – no, my Peter Tingle doesn’t react to her.” He was blushing fiercely as he whispered the last part, even his ears turning red, and she actually _giggled_. What on earth was this boy reducing her to? Michelle Jones didn’t giggle. “Oh my god, May! I’m not talking about this with you! No. Oh, you talked to her? Yeah, she worked it out, she’s super smart. I know. OK, I’ll see you later. Larb you too.”

As soon as he hung up, Peter flung himself face down on the bed, burying his face in the comforter. “Kill me, kill me now.” He mumbled something into the cotton that she didn’t catch, and she laid down next to him, turning onto her side.

“What did you say?” She trailed her fingers across the back of his neck and he shuddered beneath her touch, goose bumps erupting across his skin.

He turned his head to glare at her. “I can’t believe you made me have a boner when I was talking to my aunt,” he muttered. “Just kill me before I die of shame.”

She cackled, shoving at his shoulder to turn him on to his back. “May’s cool. I told her we kissed three times and she cheered, then told me you’d had the talk and would be responsible and not get me pregnant.”

Peter slapped his hands over his face and moaned. “You talked about our – our _sex life_ with May? Our sex life which is never even going to have a chance to exist because I’m never going to be able to have a hard on ever again. I’m traumatized.”

They lay side by side, hands just touching, not feeling the need to talk. MJ liked the quiet, was never one to fill silence with conversation just for the sake of it, and it felt comfortable with Peter. The two of them were the very definition of awkward, but something between them clicked, turned the awkwardness into something warm and familiar.

“So, what is this?” Peter said after a while. “Like, I don’t want to pressure you into a label or anything, but are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Because I feel like we are but we’ve not had that conversation and I don’t want to assume.”

“We are,” she assured him, and he smiled that little smile again, one that she’d never seen before the Blip, and only ever seemed to be aimed at her. It was his smile just for her and it was lovely, made her feel wanted and loved and beautiful, which was a new feeling for her. She’d always felt like an outsider, destined to be forever alone, and until Peter came along, she’d been content with that. But he felt like coming home, and he looked at her like she was the center of his universe. She still wasn’t sure what someone like Peter Parker, who was so sweet and attentive and kind, saw in her, but she wasn’t going to fight it. She was his and he was hers and he’d been all she’d thought about for the last six months.

He hooked his little finger around hers. “I have a girlfriend.” He sounded giddy and happy and it made her melt.

“You do.”

“My girlfriend is amazing. She takes down drones with a mace and is totally cool about the fact that her boyfriend is a part-time superhero.” He sat up, crossing his legs and resting his chin in his hands. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She mirrored his position, their knees pressing together.

“For not caring that I’m Spider-Man. Or I guess not minding is more accurate. I know it’s a lot to deal with, and I’m glad you know, because I hated not telling you, but I was worried I’d scare you off and never have a chance with you.”

She was just about to kiss him when there was a knock at the door, and she sighed with frustration. “Yeah?” she called out.

“Michelle, it’s Mr. Harrington. Just letting you know that we leave for the airport in fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Mr. Harrington,” she said, before pressing her forehead to Peter’s. “I hate phones and teachers. All I want to do is kiss you and people keep interfering.”

He curled a finger under her chin and tipped her head up for a soft kiss, before touching the broken black dahlia hanging around her neck. “We’ll be home soon, and we can go on proper dates. Go to the Hall of Science then walk through the park.”

Of course Peter Parker would suggest a trip to the Hall of Science as a date, but then he knew that the way to her heart was either through a good murder documentary or sciencing the shit out of something, so it was actually perfect. “As long as we can hold hands and make out, I’m in.”

He kissed her again, and then stood. “I’m gonna go change before we leave.” He grabbed his jeans and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom, and she did a quick check to make sure she’d packed everything. Not that she had much to pack; just a couple of changes of clothes and her phone, everything else burned up during the attack on the tour bus.

Peter came out of the bathroom and he watched her as she shoved things into her backpack. “Have you’ve got room for a couple more things? I literally have nothing left other than what you saved for me.”

She added his pants and shirt to the bag, along with the dress shoes – Happy apparently went shopping at Bodyguards R Us for Peter’s clothes – then held her hand out to him. “Let’s go home.”

***

Peter managed to stay awake for about thirty minutes after take-off. They’d planned to watch a truly awful movie that was a blatant rip-off of the Avengers, with characters called Metal Man, Thunder God and even Arachnid-Man, which made Peter laugh in embarrassed delight, but he didn’t even make it past the opening credits before his head was nodding towards his chest. She pulled the cheap airline buds from his ears and he startled awake. “Huh?”

Reaching across him, she reclined his seat then did the same to her own. “You need to sleep.” During their three hour wait at the boarding gate, he’d admitted to her that he wasn’t quite as OK as he’d made out, and that his super healing left him exhausted as his body put most of his energy into repairing any injuries. She’d been watching his energy level drop throughout the morning, leaving him pale and quiet, and had made sure he ate and drank plenty before boarding the plane, predicting that he’d pass out within an hour.

He hummed tiredly in agreement and slouched down in his seat, trying to get comfortable, but no position seemed to suit, leaving him shifting around and rolling his shoulders.

MJ pushed the armrest up from between them then patted her shoulder. “Lean on me,” she said, and Peter snuggled in against her without any hesitation, wrapping his arms around his middle and sighing contentedly.

“Y’r comfy. Soft,” he murmured, before falling asleep.

She’d fully intended to watch the rest of the shitty film, mostly to have Arachnid-Man material to embarrass Peter with, but the sound of his relaxed breathing and the soft brush of his hair against her neck and face made her rest her head on his, leaning towards him and his warmth and closing her eyes. His head fit into the curve of her shoulder and neck like a puzzle piece, as though he was made in just the right shape to slot in alongside her.

She didn’t fall completely asleep, just dozed in a weird twilight world where she was still vaguely aware of what was going on around her, but not really registering it. Peter slept deeply and peacefully, and something about him trusting her enough to fall asleep on her felt intimate, like they’d skipped straight past the early stages of dating right to an established relationship. She was aware of every minute movement he made, heard his little snuffles and sighs.

He slept all the way across the Atlantic, right through lunch then dinner, stirring to consciousness only once, lifting his head briefly from her shoulder to smile at her and rub at his eye before settling in against her once more, shrugging a couple of times before falling back to sleep.

She resumed her position, making the most of these quiet, precious moments with Peter before they had to go back to their normal lives. Well, she guessed their lives weren’t so normal when compared with most other people’s, but she wouldn’t trade her life for anyone else’s. She loved Peter, had never been so sure about anything in her life; she’d loved him for a long time, and she suspected that the reverse was true. They had the whole summer vacation stretching out before them, and she intended to make the most of every single second she spent with Peter.

There wasn’t anything in the world that could keep them apart. She was going to make sure that they had the best summer ever.


End file.
